Friday, January 20, 2012

January 20, 2012

Today is my due date.

Or perhaps I should say -- today was my due date.

It seems strange, and even offensive, that I made it to this date and my baby did not.

My daughter is dead.  Today, she has been dead for two months exactly.

Today is hard.


I expected it to be harder.  I expected to be lost in despair.  I expected to die from grief.  How can a mother arrive at the date her expectancy was supposed to blossom into fullness and not die?

But I am not dead.  And today, this day of emptied expectancy, has been far sweeter than I could have dreamed.

This morning the world was beautiful.  The clouds, the snow, the sun -- beauty all around.

The beauty was in people, too.  When my car got stuck in snow, strangers materialized out of nowhere to help -- twice.

I went to get blood drawn, and the man who did so remembered me, remembered that I used to have a baby.  He was kind to me.

Friends and the other babylost remembered what today used to be.  They did not leave me alone in the remembering.

Sweet sister-friends called me, wrote to me, listened to me at length, and lifted me up.  They helped me to remember that God knows the pain of this day, and the days previous, and the days to come.  That He cares.

Today I saw babies and pregnant women during my travels, and did not hate them.  This gives me hope that there is beauty yet bloom in my heart as I heal.

At the store, I found a lilac-scented candle that whispered of Eve to me.  I bought it, and the burning of it is comforting me as I write this.  The lilac smell is all around me and will forever belong to her now.

There was so much good today, so much sweetness on a day I expected to taste only bitter.

I am blessed.  God has not forgotten me.  He is carrying me, tending me like the gentlest farmer with the most tender shoot.  I have given myself to Him, and He has not failed.

So today, the day that was my due date, I will remember the good that He has given.  I would never give up this pain because that would mean giving up the good that came before it.

My daughter, you have been worth every tear.



Finishing up trimester #1

17.5 weeks

17.5 weeks

20 week ultrasound

20 week ultrasound

Baby's feet




Baby Girl November 20, 2011-14


Eve's name in the sand


  1. such beautiful usual!

  2. What a lovely post, Mary. Hold this day in your heart as the ebb and flow of your grief continues...

  3. ((hugs)) such amazing pictures, so moving....its an honor to walk on the edges of your grief and hopefully help ease the burden just a little tiny bit xx

  4. ((hugs))...your pictures are amazing, so moving and beautiful...its an honor to walk in the edges of your grief, and hopefully to ease the burden just a little tiny bit xx

  5. Thank you, sweet Penny. I am glad I know you. <3

  6. Thanks, Hope. Although I desperately wish this hadn't happened to either of us...I'm glad that I know you because of it. Love to you, and to Addie and Zoe. <3

  7. i am crying and praising for you Beth.

  8. "Emptied expectancy" -- those are perfect words to describe it. I'm so glad your day was beautiful. ((hugs))

  9. So sorry to hear about your loss and your grief. Being the mother of two grown boys, now young men, I simply cannot imagine your tragic loss. Wishing you all the best as your heart heals...but will forever remained beautifuly scared with your daughters tender young life and memories. Fondly, Roberta

  10. Truly beautiful words. The cast of her foot is amazing. Wishing you gentle days.

  11. Thank you so much, Roberta. That means a lot. <3

  12. Day at a time and u are an inspiration to all who know u dear Beth
    hugz bev xoxoxox

  13. Thank you for sharing the beauty within the pain. God is tending you and good will come!
    Love Debbie

  14. So Powerful!! I am crying. Sad but so grateful. Thank you for taking those tender shoots from the Gentle Farmer. Eat and fill with His grace. You are blessed Beth with the gift of living grace. I am humbled by the beautiful expression of the Savior that is your life. You bless me.

  15. thank you so much, sweet Dea. *hugs*

  16. I had to cry when I read this post. It brought back all the memories. I found out my daughter had died in the 19th week and I gave birth to her a day later. It was a nightmare. Unfortunately I don't have a cast of her feet or hand (she was so tiny), but I do have a few pictures. I am grateful that we could see her and hold her and say good bye to her.

    She was our second child. This is 12 years ago. And it still hurts - not as much as it did then, but still.

    Losing a child is hard. And no one can take away your grief.

    I'm sending you a big hug. You are a brave mother - because that's what you are , a mom.

  17. big hugs back, carola! thanks for writing. <3

  18. bless your heart, you are so brave writing and sharing this. It took me several years before I could do so.

    my little boy would be 10 in a few days.

  19. You amaze me Beth! You are one of the bravest women I know. May God continually guide you and love you and your sweet family!


"I am glad you are here with me."
― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Return of the King